Dancing on Ice
by The Phantom of Quill and Ink
Summary: After several years, memories still remain fresh in our minds. No one forgets how to skate, how to dance... Please R&R. CrepsleyArra. ONESHOT. NEED REVIEWS DESPERATELY!


**This is one of my first Crepsley+Arra fics, so please don't hunt me down if it sucks. Please read and review. Unfortunately, this is just a oneshot, as, while I am writing my story (o_f all the darkest fears_, take a look at it) I will not have enough time to write anything else, apart from the occasional oneshot! Enjoy!**

Dancing on Ice 

Larten Crepsley sat on a severed tree trunk and stared out across the ice. There was a great full moon and the stars glittered like diamonds. There were no clouds at all. Though it was chilly and snowing, he didn't feel cold at all, his vampric blood keeping him warm enough. He ran his fingers impatiently through his crop of orange hair and sighed, his breath fogging up in front of him. He was bubbling with energy, but he would not move.

Darren had led him to this place with some sort of purpose in mind. He had left a pair of ice-skates there for him to use and had left him alone, but he would not skate. He would not play along with Darren, no matter what his silly plan was. The knowing glance he had shot him, the mischievous smirk was more than enough to warn him of trouble. Alert and ready, he sat straight and waited.

He had a funny feeling he had been here before. Long ago, maybe more than a century now… He fingered the skates thoughtfully and wondered and searched him memories for something, anything to explain this lingering feeling of de-ja-voux. Then, suddenly, it came to him.

"_Come on, Larten!" his brother called. "Bet you can't do this!" he jumped into the air, landing on one foot and skidding on the ice, falling awkwardly on his elbow. Larten laughed as his brother, Baltor, got to his feet shakily. He glided across the ice freely, spinning and showing off, a triumphant smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Baltor scowled. "Just because you're a vampire, doesn't mean you can make fun of me."_

"_My dear brother," he scoffed. "Just because you can't skate, doesn't mean…" he stopped and groaned. He had done it again! Twice! A devious smirk came to Baltor's eyes and Larten panicked. "You would not…!"_

"_What do mean?" he grinned. "Don't you think Seba has a right to know when you make mistake like that…?"_

_Larten growled and chased after him on the ice, darting here and there as Baltor raced to the edge of the lake. _

The fully-grown, adult Larten smiled softly to himself. Those were good days. He was a young foolish vampire, then. His parent's used to take him to a frozen lake to skate every winter when he was young and he would return with his brother even after they passed on. After his brother's death, however, he had stopped. He just couldn't face the ice again alone. It was lonely and pointless when he skated alone.

He laughed a little at the ancient memory, putting his hand to his nose. His brother had cost him several nose hairs for that silly mistake. How had Darren found this place? And why had he brought him all the way here? The reason became apparent when he saw a figure at the other side of the lake. He stood up to get a better view. It was a woman, the moonlight turning her black hair a silvery blue.

She stared around at the ice and his sharp eyesight caught a flash of white as she smiled contentedly. He hid behind a tree and waited, watching carefully. She pulled on skates and stepped onto the ice, shaky and wavering at first, but building confidence. She moved over the white ice with growing ease. She looked beautiful. Larten let out an inaudible gasp. Arra Sails? How did Darren contact Arra and convince her to come here of all places?

Without even knowing what he was doing, he found himself tugging on his own skates.

XXX

It was a relief to find herself on the ice again. It had been too long. Too many years since she met that boy, that vampire on the ice. A shadow of a smile lit her face for a brief moment. She danced to remembered music with a ghost partner, a memory of thick ginger hair and emerald green eyes.

"_Can I kiss you…?" he asked suddenly. _

"_What?" she stopped skating. _

"_Can I kiss you?" he repeated. _

"_But why…?"_

_He stopped as well, right in front of her. "Silvia…" he began. "I've known you for so long but… well, I think… I don't know…" he looked away. "Forget it, I just… forget it."_

"_No, no," she insisted. "If you really want to… why not?" she leaned forward, her lips slightly parted. She felt his hand on her arm, the other taking her hand. "I love you, Arra…Thank you..." and he kissed her._

That had been her first kiss. They had promised each other they'd be together forever, but he had left. Disappearing into the night one last time, and she had never seen him again.

She looked up and saw a figure in red gliding towards her, his cloak billowing out behind him. "Larten…?" she gasped. "What…? What're you doing here?"

"I would ask the same of you, Arra Sails."

She blushed. "I… I came here when I was a child and I thought I should… well, I just wanted to see if I could still do it." She looked accusingly at him. "What're _you_ doing here?"

He grimaced. "You will not believe this, but roughly the same reason… My brother and I used to come here and fool around but I never touched another pair of skates after he died… Darren led me here but I was not going to move until I saw you and I just had a sudden urge to take to the ice again…" he was babbling now and he blushed.

The stood in silence for a while, the Arra surprised herself by asking him, "do you want to dance…?"

XXX

The question caught him off guard. Dance? He swallowed nervously, balancing awkwardly on the ice. "But there is no music…" he told her. She reddened slightly and he regretted saying anything that made her feel uncomfortable. He held out his hand and she took it. The simple touch felt electric and his heart began to beat a furious tattoo against his ribs. They began to skate, flowing over the ice faster and faster until they flew. Another memory surfaced in his mind.

_She was so graceful, he wondered whether he would ever be able to match her. He got close to her and took her hand. She smiled back at him nervously. A live band played for the public skating in circles across the ice. He put his hands on her waist and she nodded, ready. He lifted her up over his head with a grunt and she spread her arms out. He smiled widely as he lowered her down and let her spin round to face him. He had never attempted such a lift before and he was rewarded by a swift fleeting kiss that left his knees shaking and his heart hammering. _

Now he was dancing with Arra. She was as graceful as the girl from his memory, but swifter and surer and more beautiful. He caught himself thinking that and scolded himself. Arra shadowed his footwork perfectly and he circled her in time to silent music that they alone could hear.

XXX

She flew across the ice. He took her hand and he spun under his arm, stopping front of him. She glanced into his grass green eyes. She had never noticed he had green eyes before. His movements were all too familiar. She turned her back to him and sped round the edge of the ice, the dodging the snow. He stayed behind her, mimicking her speed and footwork.

_Coincidence, _she told herself. _Coincidence…_

But as he snaked his hands round her waist, she knew it was no coincidence. With strong arms, he lifted her into the air and she raised her arms, resting on his shoulder like she did with the boy from her memory. He held her firmly and she felt she was flying through the air like an eagle.

He slowed down, letting her slide down his body until her feet touched the ice. They came to a standstill, their faces closer together than strictly necessary. "You were not called Arra then, were you, Silvia."

"I didn't want to tell you. I was from a rich family, you were poor, Larten. Or should I say Michael."

He laughed. "I was embarrassed because I was poor! You would never have loved me if you knew I was a humble pick-pocket!"

"Don't you think I would have figured it out from your stolen clothes?" she was laughing now. "Mind you, I never made any effort to dress like a proper street urchin. I just picked out my dirtiest, dullest clothes and hoped for the best!"

They stood still for a long time then, until he asked, "Can I kiss you…?"

She gave a very un-Arraish giggle and put her arms around his neck. He lent forward and claimed her lips as his own.

**There you go, tell me what you think. **


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